After three weeks of thinking about the embarrassment in Atlanta, we were ready. After the entire south laughed at us for losing three games in a row to garbage teams, we were ready. The Icebulls and I were ready to prove to the south and the nation that we still deserved to be the top team in our division. I spent the entire break going through the games in my head, critiquing every stride I took on the ice. Our moment of vengeance had finally arrived. As I strapped on my skates I thought about every team that doubted my ability and my team's ability to perform as a great team should. I had an unusually keen height of sense.I could feel the cold chill piercing through my skin. The smell and taste of sweat left over from previous practices. The music filling the locker room and hallway outside of us. I was ready, we were ready. We all knew what it was going to take to destroy our adversaries on the frigid field.

"I want you to remember" the coach bellowed.....echoing.... "I want you to remember the feeling in your gut after losing. I want you to remember gut wrenching practices you all have endured. The hours of skating drills and endurance drills. They way you all wore your bodies out to improve your game. I wanted you to remember and I want you ALL to put your hearts and souls into this GAME!" the coach roared as we all stood up screaming out. I could feel the intensity in everyone's voices and I saw it in their eyes. It was time.

As I stepped onto the ice I looked up to my dad for some sign of good luck. He gave me the thumbs up and told me to give them hell. As we all lined up on the goal line and awaited the starting line up to be announced, I could feel the butterflys flying around in my stomach. I was excited to play University of California, because they had no idea the shitstorm they were about to step into. The announcer began naming off the starting line up. First up was Ricky, then Connor and Fordy. The announcer named off our starting defense and goalie. Which was Falbo and I on defense and Smitty between the posts. We stood directly facing the oppositions starting lineup. As I gazed across to the other team I let out a slight chuckle. They were cocky, way to much for any teams own good and we were going to show them why.

The buzzer let out a sound the made the rink shake. We lined up to take the opening face off. I could feel our sense of urgency, my hands were shaking, my heart felt as if it were in my throat, and my legs were yearning to start skating. The entire team was up and making noise to pump us up before the ref dropped the puck. I felt the rythmic beating of the wooden sticks along the boards as if they were beating war drums. The ref dropped the puck, the game had started. We dug our skates into the smooth, soft ice to get that extra speed. We sacrificed our bodies to shield the puck from the opposing playes or to block incoming shots. And we hit like we were the biggest players in college. Little by little we pelted the goalie with shots. He was the only reason the game did not become bloody massacre. However he couldnt save all of them. One by one the pucks started to trickle into the net, the goalie was tired. Connor took advantage of the opportunity and shot a wicked wrist shot, which landed back shelf right were momma keeps the peanut butter.

Slowly the game went on first period then the second. We were all sure the game was in the bag. Between the second and third period we went to the lockerroom to regroup as they zammed the ice. The coach walked in calmly and began to speak. "Are you guys proud of yourselves? You all are up 5-1 are you ready to call it quits on this garbage team? OR are all of you going to give them such an asswhooping that it sends all the other teams a message that we mean business!" No one answered. No one answered because we all knew what the answer would be.

The third and final period was to be one of the longest of my life. As I was skating to retrieve the puck in our defensive zone I was hit from behind. This is the biggest cheap shot a player can do in the sport. My shoulder went straight into the boards, not even the padding helped cushion the blow. I somehow passed the puck to a teammate and skated to the bench. My entire world was spinning and I had a sharp, needle like pain in my shoulder. Nothing has ever hurt me like my shoulder did then. I told the coach to call the trainer over to take a look at it. He told me that I could have either broken my collar bone or separated it. Either way I was screwed. Ten more minutes of hockey left on the clock, thats the number that stuck in my head. I refused to quit now after all of the team's hard work and mine. Every time i touched the puck my entire shoulder felt like it was pushed up against a burning red, hot iron. Every time I got hit I felt like passing out. And every time I went back to the bench, coach told me to stop playing but I refused.

I played that last ten minutes and I gave it my all. Nothing had changed in me from the beginning to the end, because I was determined to win no matter what. It may have been the longest ten minutes of my life, but I also had the time of my life doing it.

I love the opening gambit, in medias res (jumping into the middle of a sequence or narrative), and the moment-to-moment transitions create an upbeat tempo....keep going, and consider amplifying paragraph breaks with a different transitional style

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